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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3

Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping

— Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Don’t you care?!

Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver.

You try to scream some senses into Chad’s tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, you’re too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish – and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes.

— Listen to me, goddamnit! We’re all going to die!

You must be looking horrible – mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger – even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone.

Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong – you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads – and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Marty’s stash isn’t very nice even if he kinda doesn’t care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling.

Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear – you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killer’s smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty.

— Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there?

— Karen is…

— Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isn’t dead. I mean, I’m glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome.

Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You don’t think that there are ways to fake this – and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and you’d still want out.

— I saw her!

— Sure you did, hon. Listen, I’m really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it first…

— Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! — God, you’re annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until I’d pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze.

— I saw her severed head!

— Sure you did. Listen – you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say that…hmmmm…that Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife and…

You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea – because before he could finish it, his head was impaled with…oh, no. No-no-no, you can’t do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt – something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas.

This was completely silent – the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Marty’s lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didn’t even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year – you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You can’t do it, you can’t do it, you won’t do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb.

Some people are simply not built for survival – this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist – fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you – when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest.

You run before everything else can kick in – at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head – not the upper one anyway – but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple.

You ran

‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ and you ran ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ and you ran some more

And you ran right into his chest.

Wall of muscles, no less – you aren’t even sure if this is a human’s body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in – you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night – lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long.

— I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger.

This is the tall killer – low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death – his hand is big enough to cover your head and you don’t want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers.

König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold – and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold – even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug.

— Tshhh, Hase, don’t cry. I won’t be able to let you go if you’d proceed with those sweet noises, ja?

His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug – only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldn’t be concealed since this is an obvious threat to…ah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse.

— Let me go!

You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue – the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch.

He fucking moans.

— Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, aren’t I?

You don’t understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible.

You tug on this weird hood he is wearing – if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body – maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, you’re not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside.

— Let!

You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back – and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels.

— Me!

You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit – only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didn’t – he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towards…you only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not – probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones.

— Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he – a dirty businessman who doesn’t like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now?

Probably the grandpa.

You yank the mask up and…

Ah.

Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes – blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die.

He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone – your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You won’t have such problems if you’re dead, right?

— Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early.

— Br…breaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact?

— I promised Tiger that we’d let you roam around a little. Make things interesting.

Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didn’t go straight to the police is because A) You don’t speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone can’t connect to anything, and C) You don’t even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because you’re scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust.

— I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, ass…

Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it – you don’t even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you.

— Language, Hase. Don’t make me discipline you, ja? — Fuck you! — Very gut then. That’s what you will do very soon.

Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feel…something. You won’t want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after – and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin and…

You try to think of something – anything.

Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly and…ah, it’s not working.

König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood – you’re fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you – perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since you’d be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once he’d emptied himself on your warm body just once.

You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he can’t stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar – it’s more of a Horangi’s thing, even though König hopes he won’t have to break you too much until you’d call him daddy – pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that you’re nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions.

— Let me go.

— Nein.

— Please?

— I like your begging, Spatz.

— It means you’d let me go?

— Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere.

— But, um…your culprit will be mad, no?

As cunning as you can, you’re trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. You’re trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he won’t fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so you’d actually convince him.

But, it’s not really working – maybe, you aren’t as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were.

— He’d live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. It’s enough to make him understand my reasons.

It’s definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it – he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body – and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest.

You’re trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark – but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more – you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators.

After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long – this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, you’re standing in front of a…house. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer.

Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years – and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot.

— Welcome home, Schatz.

He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room – literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if you’d see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldn’t even consider it too weird. You were expecting…something. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like them…

You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep.

You fucking hate forest trips.

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

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Monstertober Day 3:

The Scarecrow walks at midnight

Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

Nicknames: Song bird, birdie

Word count: 2.3k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎

You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.

It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.

I’m in the corn maze

Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛

She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.

You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.

“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.

It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.

In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.

You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat…” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.

You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.

One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.

“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.

You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.

“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.

“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.

“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.

Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.

Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.

The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.

Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @adoreyouusugar

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training4theapocalypse · 1 year

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On Her Majesty’s Supersonic Service (Adrian Chase x Reader) Ch. 5

Chapter 5 From Gotham with Love

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: SMUT, TW: Rape roleplay, Bondage, Romance, Descriptions of murder, Descriptions of violence, P in V, Verbal humiliation, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After the events of Project Butterfly, you and Adrian Chase become A.R.G.U.S. contractors- your first mission is a heist in Gotham. But you've always wondered what it would be like if Vigilante was after you and if you could persuade him to let you go.

Masterlist

Chapter text:

Two weeks later

'The mission is simple'. Harcourt’s instructions had read: steal a flash drive without anybody noticing.

This was your and Adrian’s first job as government-contracted mercenaries. The idea, of course, had been yours. Days after the events of Project Butterfly, Adrian received a payment from A.R.G.U.S. for services rendered to the U.S. Government.

“Woah, we can actually get paid for this stuff?”

A few administrative procedures later, you’d set up your own firm, and you were now official suppliers of security services on A.R.G.U.S’s approved contractors list— self-employed, tax-paying, government-sanctioned killers. To Adrian’s slight dismay, you were quite the opposite of vigilantes.

“Can you hear me, Birdie?” comes Adrian’s voice in your earpiece.

You sit at the bar of the Hotel Aventine casino, waiting for your mark to show up. You’d asked Harcourt for an easy job to ease Adrian into espionage, and as Interim Director of A.R.G.U.S. while Waller was suspended, she was able to arrange just that.

“Copy,” you whisper discreetly into your whisky glass.

Watching the high-rollers, you’re waiting for Tomasso Falcone to give the drive to his cronies to stash in his room safe. Then, once you gave him the all-clear, Adrian would climb into Falcone’s room via the balcony and switch the flash drive with a decoy while you kept a lookout in the casino.

Simple. Easy.

Adrian drums his fingers restlessly on the balcony railing overlooking Gotham City’s nightscape below. Thunder begins to roll in as the clouds get darker and ominously closer to the towering hotel.

“Adrian,” you mumble, hiding your mouth behind your glass. “Stop drumming Taylor Swift- my earpiece is picking it up.”

“Sorry.”

“He’s here.”

Falcone enters the room and walks over to the blackjack table. You watch as he confers with a couple of men. Then he looks over at the bar, surveying a few women sitting there until his eyes fall directly on you.

Shit.

You look away nonchalantly but feel his gaze raking over you. Through the busy casino chatter, the sound of footsteps on the slightly sticky carpet reaches your ears as he approaches the bar. You continue to look ahead but feel Falcone’s presence as he sits on the barstool right next to yours.

“Let me get a Jim Beam,” he instructs the barman. “And one for the lady.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” you say, gesturing at your half-empty glass.

“What? Boyfriend won’t let a guy buy you a drink or something?” he asks, and you hear Adrian drumming in your ear again, clearly agitated.

“Another Laphroaig then, please,” you say to the barman.

“What’s that? French?”

Ugh.

He swivels on his seat so he’s looking directly at you.

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing all by herself in a joint like this?”

“I hate this,” says Adrian in your earpiece.

You ignore Adrian. But shit, you need to get rid of Falcone.

“I’m here on business.”

“Business...” Falcone repeats as the barman sets your drinks down. “Working girl?” he adds quietly when the barman turns to serve another patron.

You look behind him at the women sitting at the bar and finish your first drink in one gulp. You were so focused on keeping a lookout for Falcone that you hadn’t noticed the dirty looks from them, who you now realise are some of the high-end call girls of Gotham.

“I don’t want to waste either of our time, so let’s just say I don’t think you could afford me.” You tilt your head sympathetically, eyes lingering on his cheap drink of choice, and he gives you an offended look.

“I’m a guy who knows what he likes- that don’t mean I can’t afford you.”

Channelling your inner Harcourt, you raise your eyebrows and sip your drink but don’t reply.

“How’d you like to make more tonight than you make in a month?” he says with bravado, discreetly adjusting the sleeve of his suit so you can see his expensive watch.

“Now, that’s very forward of you- I don’t even know your name.”

“Falcone. Tomasso Falcone. And you?”

“They call me Emilia.” Adrian snorts when he hears you utter Harcourt’s name- the first that popped into your head. You hadn’t expected to interact with Falcone, so you don’t have a cover prepared. “And I’m intrigued to find out what you think I make in a month.”

He takes out a hotel key card and a black USB stick and slides them towards you, his hand covering them. You place your hand on top of his.

“Take this up to my room and put it in the safe. There’s ten grand in the safe- it’s yours.”

You tut, leaning into your role. “Mr Falcone, I’m appalled that’s what you think I make in a month.”

“A week?”

“Try a night.”

He blinks incredulously. “I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“So, I go upstairs, put this in the safe and wait for you to join me?”

“You just need to put it in the safe and leave- don’t come back down here. One delivery. And you don’t need to worry about spreading your legs for anyone tonight.”

“Let me kill him, Birdie…” Adrian grumbles as you meet Falcone’s eyes.

“I don’t know about this- ” You go to withdraw your hand, but he places his other on top of it firmly.

“Look, I got eyes on me everywhere. They see me tell my guys to go to my room, and they’ll know somethin’s going down. They see me pass a room key to a hooker? Nobody looks twice.”

This guy is an idiot.

You’re the one who’s watching him, and he hasn’t even realised it.

“Birdie, what are you doing? Take it!”

You don’t want to see too eager, so you pretend to hesitate and look around the room. Falcone’s men are watching your interaction closely.

“Suit yourself. Plenty of other girls in this joint-” Your other hand grabs his before he can move it back.

“Fine.”

He releases his grip, and you slip the items into your clutch. You slink off the barstool and press your lips to his cheek conspicuously. Falcone whispers his room number and safe combination in your ear, and then he watches as you leave the casino towards the hotel lobby.

He gestures his men over to the bar.

“Give it ten minutes. When the whore’s done, make sure she disappears.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was easy,” says Adrian’s voice.

The elevator doors shut.

“Get to Falcone’s balcony- now.”

“Why? You’ve got his key. I’ll meet you outside his room.”

“Adrian, I can say with certainty that they’ll wait for me to leave the room and attempt to murder me. Get to the balcony.”

“Shit. Copy that.”

There’s a reason Tomasso Falcone is only a minor member of his organised crime family. He’s a halfwit and, from what you can surmise, a scumbag too. Outsourcing his dirty work to prostitutes and probably killing them afterwards- it makes you sick.

The elevator opens on the top floor- the 44th story. You walk down the hall briskly, and let yourself into his room.

Lightning flashes across the night sky, and you have to suppress a gasp of fright when you see Vigilante’s menacing backlit figure through the glass doors on the balcony outside, rain pelting down on the marble tile behind him.

God, he looks so scary in his full suit in the dead of night. Gotham suits him.

You let him in, and he blows right past you.

“I fucking hate that guy.” His voice is muffled as it penetrates the fabric of his mask. You stop his pacing and wipe the rain off of his red visor.

“So do I. But, Adrian, we need to get out of here quickly.”

He follows you to the safe as you get on your knees to open it. It’s empty except for a small stack of bills with a mustard band that reads $10,000.

“Give me the decoy drive.” He hands you an identical black USB stick which you place in the safe. You take the band of bills, but Adrian holds the door before you can shut it.

“Wait- we don’t want his money!”

“He’ll be suspicious about the drive if I don’t take the money. What kind of prostitute doesn’t accept payment?”

“What if there’s a GPS tracker between the bills?”

You chew your lip, weighing up the options. There’s no time - you need to make a snap decision. You take the money and shut the safe with finality. Adrian’s towering figure extends a hand to help you to your feet, and he walks over to the hotel room door.

“No, Adrian- this way.” You jerk your thumb back towards the glass sliding doors of the balcony. “We might bump into Falcone’s men out there.”

“Good. We can take them!”

“We’ve only got two objectives,” you remind him. “Switch the flash drives and don’t draw attention to ourselves. Leaving a pile of bodies in the hallway would definitely be classed as drawing attention to ourselves.”

The room lights up as another flash of lightning streaks the sky.

“Birdie- the storm outside. We’ve got one set of ropes, and you’re wearing… that. Super hot, by the way, but one slip and we’re both gonna end up painting the sidewalk.”

You have to admit that a satin dress, heels and a clutch aren’t conducive to abseiling down a building, but the other option would jeopardise the mission.

Reaching up to clasp his shoulder, you meet his eyes behind his visor. “We can do it. But we need to move. Now.”

The wind howls, blowing icy rain into your face as soon as you slide the door open. You look over the edge of the balcony, and your stomach drops. Even though you’re well-practised in this, you’ve never had to do it in a cocktail dress and heels before. You grip your clutch bag tightly.

We just need to drop two floors and climb two rooms to the right, you reassure yourself.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Adrian calls. You look over your shoulder and nod. He closes the glass door behind him and starts securing the rope, looping it over the metal railing on the righthand side of the balcony.

“I’ll go first.” He pries your clutch bag from your hands. “We’ll need both hands.” You watch as he secures the bag with duct tape around his body.

He carefully climbs over the railing and, using the rope, lowers himself onto another balcony two floors below. Once he lands, he silently tugs on the rope, signalling that it’s safe for you to come down.

You hoist your dress up, and one leg at a time, you too climb over the railing- carefully positioning your feet so your strappy heels don’t catch on the outer edge. You skillfully wrap the rope between your legs and back up behind your shoulders, holding the rope so you can rappel down the side of the building without a harness.

As you step off, the rain soaks through your dress, and you notice how the rope is becoming increasingly slippy to hold. As you lower yourself past the next floor, what seemed to take Adrian seconds feels like an eternity. Your fingers turn white as you grip the rope for dear life, ignoring the blisters forming on your palms.

The wind makes you sway on your descent, and you try hard to think of the task immediately in front of you and not to visualise yourself dangling on a tiny rope, now 43 stories above Gotham. Soon enough, you feel Adrian’s strong hands on your waist as he helps you down beside him. Momentary relief floods your body when your feet meet the solid tile- now all you have to do is climb between rooms.

Over the sound of the storm, you hear a noise from upstairs. Adrian grabs you and flattens you against the wall, one gloved hand over your mouth and the other on the rope to stop it from swaying in the wind, attracting attention.

“She ain’t out here!” You hear a male voice yell.

“Of course, she ain’t- it’s a goddamn thunderstorm.”

The heat of Adrian’s body pressed up against yours, and the fleeting protection from the rain is welcome- you’re soaked through to the skin. You hear a phone ringing above.

“Mr Falcone? There’s no sign of her… I don’t know! She musta slipped past us- don’t worry, flash drive’s there… Yep, she took the money … Sure, let me check the tracker on it.”

Adrian tilts his head down to look at you through his visor, his eyes say, ‘I told you so’.

“It says she’s just outside the north side of the building- do you want me to go and get her?... Jeez! Okay, okay, I’m on it.” You hear the man shut the balcony door.

Adrian releases you and finds the opening of your clutch bag attached to his body to retrieve the stack of bills. Then, with tremendous power, he throws the band of money from the balcony, and you watch silently as the wind carries it, and it begins to plummet into the darkness of the city below.

You untangle the rope from the floors above and tie it neatly so Adrian can hook it back onto his belt.

“Let’s move,” he says, hopping over the railing. He jumps to the next balcony and over the railing with ease, waiting with one arm outstretched to help you across.

The gap is much bigger than it felt when you were abseiling down the middle of it. Your feet feel slippy in your open-toed, strappy heels as you lift yourself over the other side of the railing and adjust your stance, getting ready to jump.

“C’mon, Birdie. Three… two… one.”

You launch yourself to the next balcony and feel your ribs slam into the cold, wet barrier. Adrian grips your drenched upper arm and helps hoist you over. He places a hand on each of your arms and looks into your face as your teeth chatter in the cold.

“One more jump,” he says determinedly. “We can do it.” There’s no longer any trace of uncertainty in his voice. With precision, he turns and leaps onto the next balcony. On the other side, he once again extends his arm, ready to grab you.

You stand on the edge as another jagged spear of lighting cascades across the sky.

“Three… two… one,” says Adrian.

As you jump, your high heel catches on the bottom of the balustrade.

Fuck.

Time seems to slow down, and your stomach lurches nauseatingly as you fall.

You watch as your fingers slide down the glass side of the guardrail opposite. Catching yourself by your very fingertips, you manage to hang onto the balcony floor just in time. Before you can blink, Adrian reaches over with lightning reflexes and seizes your arm. He helps drag you up and over the barrier, where you land on the wet marble.

Adrian opens the sliding door of your room, and you both practically fall inside. You slam it shut behind you and lean against it, breathless. The silence of your quiet hotel room makes it feel like your ears are ringing. Until now, you hadn’t realised how deafening the rain had been.

“Whoo!” exclaims Adrian, and you watch him punch the air and circle his hips in a goofy little dance. “Yeah! We-did-it-baby!” He punctuates each syllable with a jab of his fist.

Despite the fact that you’re shivering in your saturated dress, now plastered to your body, you laugh at his ridiculous jubilation. Adrenaline pumps through you too- it was a close shave but you can’t let yourself think about how close you came to decorating the pavement below.

Adrian turns around.

“Shit, you’re freezing, B.”

“I’m fine.” You stand up and walk over to the bathroom. “Can you email Hartcourt and let her know we got the drive?”

“What’s on this thing anyway?”

“Blueprints for Arkham,” you call over your shoulder as your enter. You do a double take at the shaking, drowned figure looking back at you in the bathroom mirror as you hear Adrian unwrapping the duct tape securing the clutch to his body.

You slip off heels and your soaked dress and throw a hotel robe on. Grabbing a towel, you dry your hair as best you can and get it out of your face so you can wipe the running mascara from your wet cheeks.

“Birdie?”

You jump in fright for the second time this evening when you see a masked figure in the mirror behind you. It sends a jolt of panic through you until your brain processes that it’s just your boyfriend.

“Fuck, Adrian! You scared me.”

You’ve seen him as Vigilante plenty of times before, but tonight you can fully appreciate why he strikes fear into the hearts of criminals. He looks so intimidating, standing tall in his black suit, a stark contrast to your own white fluffy robe.

“Sorry.” He steps tentatively towards you. “I encrypted the files and sent them to Harcourt. Mission accomplished.”

He brings his arms around you to hug you from behind, and you lean back into his embrace, comforted by his touch even though your heart is still racing.

“That was fucking scary,” he murmurs into your neck through his mask after a few moments of silence.

“Just part of the job.”

“Birdie…”

“What?”

“Don’t bullshit me.” His visor meets your eyes in the mirror. “I know you’re tough, but that was a close fucking call out there.”

“I’m fine, Adrian-”

“You don’t have to pretend, B,” he cuts you off. “We’ll tell Harcourt and the guys that it was easy, but you don’t have to pretend like you’re not shaken up to me.”

You close your eyes and let the thoughts that have been bothering you just spill out.

“It just… it feels like you always have to save me somehow. On every single mission since I met you. And then on this one… I mean, I’m supposed you be showing you the ropes.”

“Birdie, I’m not saving you- we’re working as a team. And you are showing me how this stuff works. I would have killed every single one of those guys and tanked the whole operation if you hadn’t stopped me.”

He squeezes you gently - a simple gesture of reassurance, but you feel distinctly aware of his body pressed up against yours. You open your eyes, and seeing his broad figure enveloping yours from behind makes something low in your abdomen clench.

“They wouldn’t have stood a chance. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in the bathroom mirror.” You guide his gloved hands to the belt of your robe. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, Adrian, I’d have thought that Vigilante was here to punish me for my crimes.”

He undoes your belt, and it drops to the floor.

“Uh, what crimes?” he swallows.

You shrug, and the robe falls off your left shoulder, exposing half of your body. “We just stole a flash drive - I think that counts as theft,” you suggest.

You’re not sure he even heard you as he stares at you in the mirror. He’s never seen you in lingerie before. Your usual sports bra and underwear are nowhere near this beautifully made, nor do they show off every curve of you perfectly the way this set does.

The imprint of his erection presses up against you, and he slides the robe off of your other shoulder so he can appreciate the full effect of you standing there.

Between hours of combat training and Adrian working his final few shifts at Fennel Fields, you’ve both been too busy to have sex since that night in the Corvette. Instead, falling into bed together, exhausted at the end of every day- battered and bruised from the rigorous practise Adrian has been putting you through to make sure your hand-to-hand and firearm skills are back up to scratch now that you’ve lost your powers.

“I always wondered if Vigilante was after me… if I could have persuaded him to spare me,” you say, pressing your ass against him.

He lifts his mask up over his mouth and kisses your neck, and you watch his sharp jaw move as he sucks on your skin. Adrian moves to take his mask off.

“Wait-” You grab his wrist. “- I want to feel like how all those other girls felt when they were fucked by Vigilante.”

“Woah, Birdie. I’ve never - ever- had sex with someone in exchange for letting them go.” He sounds offended. “That would be-”

“No, I know that. I just meant I know you’ve had sex wearing your mask,” you cut across him. “You’re a good man, and I know you’d never do that. But maybe you’d make an exception. Maybe Vigilante would stop being a good man for one night… for me.”

“I dunno B…”

“I can be persuasive,” you say, pressing back into him.

“Yeah, I bet. I just don’t know if you could handle it.”

Now it’s your turn to be offended. He sees your expression in the mirror and explains.

“When I’m Vigilante, there’s no kissing- nothing. It’s just fucking. Hard.”

“I-” This stuns you. “…How much harder can it get?”

“The safe word’s ‘Eagly’,” Adrian says, pulling the mask back down. A shudder goes through your spine at the tone of his voice. Something instantly feels different about him, like a silent shift occurred when he covered his face again.

Vigilante unclips the roll of duct tape from his belt and forces your arms behind your back. The tape rips and he binds your wrists together.

Oh.

He runs his gloved hands up your body, squeezing your tits through the lacy fabric. Heat seems to flood your underwear as you watch his hands, the feeling of his gloves so alien on your skin, examining your choice of underwear.

“What’s a petty little thief like you doing all dressed up like this?” he asks, reminding you absurdly of Falcone’s questioning earlier. “Did you know I was going to catch you?”

“It- it was a surprise for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? Is he a criminal too?” You gasp when he pulls down the lace covering your tits, letting them spill out.

“He’s a killer. And he could kick your arse.”

Vigilante laughs. “Yeah, right.” His confident derisiveness makes your knees shake- you hold your breath waiting to find out what he’s going to do with you.

“Bite down on this.” He pushes his fingertips against your lips, and you feel the rough rubber grips on your mouth. You part your lips, welcoming the intrusion, close your teeth over his middle and index fingers, and let him slip his hand from the glove.

Vigilante pulls off his other glove and roughly pinches your nipples with his bare hands- you whimper, letting the glove fall to the bathroom floor.

“Was this expensive?” He drags his hands down your torso and toys with the hem of your underwear.

“Y-yes,” you answer truthfully.

He unsheathes his knife in one swift movement and cuts them off you.

“Your boyfriend can buy you a new pair with the money you got for stealing that drive,”

His knife clatters against the bathroom sink when he tosses it aside to unzip his trousers. Vigilante pushes his cock through the apex of your thighs, siding it along your folds. You squeeze your thighs together in burning anticipation as his cock lightly brushes against your clit.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking wet already. I can’t believe you’re getting off on this.”

Your whole lower body is on edge, tensing up as you watch in the mirror, the tip of his cock sliding between your thighs, made easy from your slick.

“God, you’re always so fucking ready for me. I mean-” He stumbles. “I mean, for the first time, you’re-”

“I always - always hoped you’d catch me eventually,” you interrupt, breathlessly grinding back against him.

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, and you whine as the hard ridge of his thick cock rubs back and forth against your clit. “Why’s that?”

“I knew- fuck- I knew I could get you to let me go.”

Vigilante pulls back and grips your hips, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes to match his height. Then, he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance.

“Who said anything about letting you go? I could just take you home with me. Keep using this wet little cunt.”

Oh, fuck.

“But you better fucking cum for me if you want to live.”

He sinks into you with a decisive thrust, forcing a gasp out of you. Your walls clench around his cock as he fills you up, grinding into you.

“Fuck,” you choke. “I’ve w-wanted you to take me like this for so long.”

It’s not a lie. You really have always wanted to fuck him in his mask.

Vigilante sets a pace in and out of you, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the dimly lit bathroom.

“Yeah, I bet you have... You’re such a fucking slut. Come on, fucking moan for me.”

You don’t need him to tell you to make noise for him. The whimper that escapes your lips as he pounds into you is feral.

Vigilante’s fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls your head up so you lock eyes with him in the mirror. His red-tinted glare is intense; you’ve only ever seen him so focused like this when he’s fighting- and you’ve never been on the receiving end of this particular stare of his. You know this must be what the lawbreakers in Evergreen experience when they find out Vigilante’s coming after them.

“C’mon, look at me when you take it.”

You can only gasp for air in response as you watch his other hand slide around your torso to work firm circles over your clit. The sensation brings you dangerously closer to the brink, and you push your hips back into him, already desperate for your fast-approaching orgasm.

“Hey,” he growls, his grip tightening in your hair and jerking your head back up. “I said, look at me.”

Oh, god.

All you can do is stand there and let him use you. He thrusts into you, hitting just that right spot while you writhe on your tiptoes.

“Fuck, fucking look at you.” Your cheeks burn, listening to the continuous, wet, sloppy sounds of him burying himself into your pussy, amplified by the echo of the tile. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“Oh fuck,” you sob as he rubs harshly on your clit. “Oh my god, Adrian, I’m-”

“Who’s Adrian?” Vigilante says through gritted teeth. “Your boyfriend? He’s not gonna save you this time, you desperate fucking slut.”

Holy shit.

The atmosphere is sucked out of the air as you gasp for breath. Seeing stars, your vision blurs as the waves of your orgasm begin to crash over you.

You can’t control yourself as you whine and cry out shamelessly while he fucks into you, pounding your g-spot over and over and over and over, rubbing his calloused fingers on your clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill up your tight little cunt-”

Your sob interrupts him as you feel your walls pulsing around his cock. He pushes as deep into you as your body allows, and the scream that you unleash is so loud that it seems to bounce off the tiled walls and-

CRASH

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes- bring it down for me, baby,” you hear him sucking through his teeth as his cock throbs, spurting hot liquid inside you.

You ignore the ringing in your ears and keep pressing back, riding out the last of your orgasm.

Fuck, your legs are weak from standing up on your toes. He grabs you tightly before you can fall forwards.

You blink.

The bathroom mirror has smashed into a million pieces all over the sink and floor.

No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. This isn’t possible.

“Uh, Birdie…” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to come to terms with the scene before you. “Can I kiss you yet?” he asks.

You nod. He rips off his mask and tilts your head up to kiss him.

His hand is wrapped around your jaw as he kisses you, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You can feel his effort to put a lot of tenderness into the kiss, to slowly bring you both back to reality. It makes your chest swell- you want to caress his face too but-

“Stay still a sec.” He reaches around you and carefully extracts his knife from under the pile of broken glass in the sink so he can cut your wrists free. You shake your shoulders from the awkward position and allow him to spin you around, careful that you don’t stand on any pieces of the shattered mirror and scoop you up. Your still shaking knees wrap around his waist, and you hear his combat boots crunching on the glass as he carries you out of the bathroom and over to the bed.

Adrian unclips his chest plate and places it on the hotel room armchair. You watch silently as he strips from his rain-soaked suit to his boxers, hanging everything up neatly so it can dry. He does the same with your discarded dress, and you feel like your heart might burst as you watch him tidying up after you.

He crashes down on the bed, exhausted, puts his glasses back on and pulls you into a cuddle.

“There’s not much we can do about the mirror without a broom.”

The smashed glass is the least of your worries. You give him an incredulous look and point to your throat.

“I’m pretty sure you can still talk, B.”

You shake your head, eyes burning as you try not to look up at him.

“C’mon- try. You’ve been talking for weeks now. You just haven’t screamed… like that.”

Haven’t I? Wait-

You remember in the Corvette when he made you cum. And now, come to think of it… you’re pretty sure your face was buried in his neck, so your moan of pleasure was muffled.

And the doctor… the doctor did say they’d removed most of the growths on your vocal cords. Is it really possible your powers would only work when you actually screamed? Could you be that lucky? To have control of your abilities and to be with just the right person to test it out? It feels like more than you deserve.

Adrian.

Your stomach twists. You could have killed Adrian if you’d been facing the other way.

“I-” you say tentatively, sitting up and looking away from Adrian just in case. “I feel sick”.

Anxiety swirls in your stomach as you think about how close you’d come to killing him with your scream. You flop back onto the bed, your head in your hands.

“Nothing bad happened! Just a smashed mirror.”

“Adrian, I could have killed you.” You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“But you didn’t!”

“Adrian-”

“Well, you almost died tonight. So now we’re even because I almost died tonight. Shouldn’t we be bonding over the shared trauma?”

“Not funny.”

“If you think about it- it kind of is. Peacemaker would be cracking up right now if he knew you almost killed me.”

You cross your arms.

He has a goofy grin plastered over his face. “Am I gonna have to tickle you to make you laugh?”

You can’t help yourself crack a smile. He’s so stupidly carefree, even in the face of death. But it makes you soften all the same.

“Don’t you dare, Adrian Chase, or I’ll scream again.” You scramble away from his outstretched hands, but he grabs you, pinning you to the bed.

“See?” his fingers dig into your forearms as he plants kisses all over your face and chest, his slightly stubbly chin tickling your skin gently. “Look who’s making jokes now.”

You look up into his green eyes as he looms over you with a totally different energy than when he was in his Vigilante suit.

“You’re so mean and scary as Vigilante,” you pout.

“Well, you deserve it for being a big meanie the rest of the time,” he retorts and nibbles on your neck. “And that’s big talk for someone who nearly created her own supervillain origin story.”

The weight of him on you feels right somehow. Like you’ve been sleeping without a blanket your whole life, and now you have one. And it’s all yours.

You’ve never felt so happy and content than when you’re with him. The sharp edges of you feel like they’re being slowly worn down by his presence.

You want to say something to him, but you’re not sure how.

“Do you think you’re in love with me?” you ask, staring at the ceiling.

“Weird way to tell me that you’re actually in love with me,” Adrian mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You laugh and try to think of something to change the subject, but he interrupts your train of thought.

“I know you are Birdie.” He says bluntly. He’s not making fun of you- he’s being sincere in the way that he always is when you need it most. “And I know you have a hard time saying stuff like that even though you’ve got your voice back.”

You can’t believe Adrian is being the more socially astute of the two of you.

“I-” You need to say it out loud. Get over this emotional barrier. For him. “I do. I do love you.”

“I knew that. You wouldn’t have moved from London if you didn’t. I love you too.”

“Well, obviously.” You say playfully because he knows you can be unserious for him when he needs it too.

He presses his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes, returning your grin.

“You know we’ve never had sex in an actual bed,” you say, bringing your legs up and crossing your calves behind his waist.

He looks up over his glasses, pausing in thought.

“You’re right!”

Adrian suddenly clamps his hand over your mouth and lowers his lips to your ear. You squirm in delight.

“Let’s fix that.”

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x you #adrian chase imagines #vigilante x you #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x female reader #vigilante smut #the mask stays on #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #vigilante x original character #vigilante x y/n

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starogeorgina · 4 months

Note

I couldn’t find the original post I saw with this tag game, but thought it looked so fun!

Put your phone on shuffle and put the first fanfiction (yours or someone else's) that you think of for the song it lands on 💕

Thank you so much for this!!! 💙

Angels Like You (Miley Cyrus) - Violent delights Jacaerys x reader

Wings (Birdie) - @topazy Inside, outside 10k x reader

Past Lives Redemption Ivar x reader

Follow You (Bring Me The Horizon) - Killer queen Aemond Targaryen x reader

Silence (Marshmello, Khalid) - @topazy Teen spirit Carl Grimes x reader

Revenge (XXXTENTACION) - @topazy Unspoken lies John Murphy x reader

Labour (Paris Paloma) - Ghosts in the sky Aegon Targaryen x reader

Pony (Ginuwine) - @bucknastysbabe ALL Criston Cole smut

The Bad Touch (Bloodhound Gang) - @justinalovee Aplogies & Needy Daemon x reader x Rhaenyra

I wait for u (outerplanets) - Broken bonds Harwin Strong x reader

Tagging: @topazy @justinalovee @bucknastysbabe @no-damsel @pinkpoppymoon @aemonds-holy-milk

#tag game

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sillyunknownkitkat · 5 months

Text

Undertale

Sans :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Papyrus :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Frisk :

Nothing yet

Chara :

Nothing yet

Asriel :

Nothing yet

Toriel :

Nothing yet

Asgore :

Nothing yet

Astel/Astelle :

Nothing yet

Mettaton :

Nothing yet

Undyne :

Nothing yet

Alphys :

Nothing yet

Muffet :

Nothing yet

Grillby :

Nothing yet

Underswap

Blue (sans) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Stretch (papyrus):

Hypersexual reader comfort

Swap (Gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Underfell

Red (sans) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Edge (papyrus) :

Hypersexual reader comfort

Fell (gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Swapfell

Viper (sans) :

Nothing yet

Puppy/pup (papyrus) :

Nothing yet

Sf/??? (Gaster) :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

Other Au's

Ink :

Ink x clingy/touchy reader (kinda Ink slender I'm sorry)

Error :

Nothing yet

Dream :

Nothing yet

Nightmare :

Nothing yet

Axe/Bear (ht sans) :

Nothing yet

Killer :

Nothing yet

Dust :

Nothing yet

Fresh :

Nothing yet

Cross :

Nothing yet

Geno :

Nothing yet

Reaper :

Nothing yet

Birdie (aviantale sans) :

Nothing yet

G (echotale gaster!sans) :

Nothing yet

Epic :

Nothing yet

Others :

Nothing yet

All credits to the characters belong to their original creator. I do not proclaim them as mine. Undertale belongs to TobyFox

Last updated : the 2nd December 2023

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ms-unfortunate24 · 1 year

Text

Is that all you got? (Keegan P. Russ X Reader) Pt. 3

Warnings: Slight Angst and cursing

Reader Inserts: Y/N= Your name, Y/L= Your last name, Y/CN= your code name, Y/H= your hair, Y/HC= your hair color, E/C= Eye color, H/S= Hair Style, N/N= Nickname.

A/N: I'm backkkkkkkkkkk not for long though.

Prompt: Keegan isn’t very talkative nor is he known, he’s a ghost literally.. He has his eyes on someone specific that he’s sure doesn’t notice him but what if they do? (The reader is Kick’s partner)

“Time?” “20:10” you answered shifting from your crouching position to a stand. “Our little birdie should be getting ready for his bath, accompanied by women of course,” Keegan says while pulling out two pairs of binoculars from his duffle bag, he tosses you one. “What a weirdo...” you pulled your pair of binoculars up to your face and skimmed around the bottom floor of the house, “18 guards, ground level” you called to Keegan, “Mid level, 7 guards Keegan called.

“Top floor, 13 guards” you called out

“Top floor, 12 guards” Keegan called out at the same time, you both turned to each other.

You frown at the miscount that he clearly made but he glares at you with his eyes saying the words for him “You are wrong”… you opened your mouth to speak but he interrupts you “It’s twelve. get your eyes checked out.” You slightly gasped at the insult and recounted but when you checked two of them left their post, “I counted fucking 13 so don't even try me, Russ.” you hissed back, he turned his head away from you not saying a single word after that. “God what a weirdo” you tilted your head while looking at Keegan and then slowly shifted your head to the target, your eyes widened at the disturbing display of his “bath time”. Keegan’s reaction was actually to cover your eyes, when you felt his hands over your eyes your face started to feel hot. “I don't want you to head back to the base being haunted by this” Keegan whispered in your ear, his voice sent vibrations down your body, causing your spine to feel a chill. He then shifted your head and body away from the display and let go, once you were able to see you were met by the edge of the building. You backed up in shock thinking he was trying to kill you, “you motherfu-” “oops didn't mean to” he quickly said, resting his hand over your shoulder.

You both had made it into the target’s yard, unseen by enemy personnel. “Keegan Y/CN. Sit” Elias commanded the two of you. Keegan was the first to sit down and you followed not too long after. “Do you have any idea as to why I partnered you both up for Sin City?” Elias asked. “No sir” Keegan responded, his voice sounding a bit raspy. “You two are the best at being stealthy, you’re both quick killers, and I need that to get rid of our target. The second he’s eliminated you’ll exfil to Rorke’s base and follow up with the rest of us, yes sir?” Elias says as he picks up a picture frame of Logan, hesh, and his wife. This was years ago as the Walker brothers were boys in that picture. “Yes sir” “yes sir,” Both you and Keegan said at the same time. “Y/CN, take the one on the left, I got right” Keegan whispers before sneaking behind one of the guards, you do the same, both of you silently taking out the targets with your combat knives. “I got blood in my mouth...” you groaned trying to spit the blood out. “Dont be a crybaby,” Keegan says while cleaning his knife. “Not all of us wear a balaclava, dick” you responded muttering the last part. He was about to say something but then stopped himself, “Follow me,” he says as he sneaks into the house, you follow his lead and see the guards on the ground floor some of them moved from their positions, maybe to the other floors. “Too many to go unnoticed, get your gas mask on, and let's air this baby out” Keegan commands, you reach to your side and unclip your gas mask from your utility belt, putting the gas mask on you reach for your tear gas and wait for Keegan's signal. Keegan raises his hand and then flags it down, you both toss tear gas into the room as the guards are now coughing, their systems being overflowed with the gas, causing painful coughs, blurry vision, and bloody noses. You and Keegan take out the targets one by one, one of the guys snuck up behind you and reached for your mask, fear and adrenaline rose into your system as you started to pull away from the coughing foe. Keegan throws his knife, hitting the enemy right between his eyes, you quickly fixed your mask thankful that he didn't rip it off. “Bastard..” you muttered towards the dead guard, picking up Keegan's knife from his skull.

You finally made it to the target’s room, the things you're hearing make you want to take your custom honey badger and turn it onto yourself. Keegan looks at your disgusted face and let's out a small chuckle, “what you find this funny?” you asked feeling embarrassed by the fact that Keegan found the situation humorous. Before Keegan could respond the door to the room opened, the target? No. A woman who was barely dressed, your face turns hot at the sight of her as Keegan's eyes went from her to you. His face was clearly unreadable because of his skull balaclava but he pulled the woman away after she shut the door, covering her mouth, he then knocked her out. “Did you... Kill her?” you questioned, your face was still a slight shade of red. “Why? Wanna ask her out after this?” Keegan said sarcastically, you scoffed and then looked at the closed door. “What's the game plan, big boy?” you asked, readying your gun. “Take this drill charge, plant it on the door, kaboom” Keegan said offering the charge to you, you crouched over to him and grabbed it. “Right righttt” you replied planting the charge onto the door and activating it's drill. You back away from the door as the impact blows it back, Keegan walks in nonchalantly with two pistols in his hand, shooting everything that moved in the room. You stared in awe at what your partner just did, no offense to Kick but Keegan was very impressive, Kick was more of a tech guy while Keegan was a cold killer. You moved I'm after Keegan as you both scanned the room for Alejandro, He was in the closet, you lunged towards him with a knife, taking him out with no struggle. “Keegan to Exfil team, ready for extraction, ASAP,” Keegan said through his communicator

#call of duty ghosts #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #call of duty #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #kick call of duty ghosts #keegan russ smut

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abysscronica · 4 months

Text

The Captain & birdie - SBS: birdie and the Kid Pirates! part 2

...continued from here.

complete SBS list: ✻ SBS: birdie & Kid Pirates part 1, part 2, part 3| ✻ SBS: birdie & the Marines | ✻ SBS: Emperors, what if scenarios | ✻ SBS: what if scenarios (including birdie x Drake collection) & AUs

analysis & introspection of Kid, birdie, and other characters

love and sadism: Kid's struggle 19 20

birdie and her feelings: a hopeless mess? 14

birdie & the crew: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Kid & birdie: the worst they could say 1 2

were the two of them fated? link

Killer & birdie: 5

birdie, Kid and Killer: 1 2

birdie's age: link

did birdie hear rumors about the Kid Pirates in the Marines? link

non canon crew members (like Booka & the doc) 1 2 3 4 5 6

Victoria's role: link

Heat's woman: 1 2

what about the women on the crew? link

drinking contest in the crew: 1 2

birdie's belongings on the Victoria Punk: link

birdie's (non canon) looks & name: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

birdie trivia (fav food, country of origin, etc.): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

#captive #eustass kid x birdie #eustass kid x reader #captive bonds #killer x reader #killer x birdie #x drake x birdie #x drake x reader #trafalgar law x birdie #trafalgar law x reader #koby x reader #koby x birdie #kid pirates fanfiction

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shirohige-pirates · 10 months

Text

Just Like Fire

CisFem Reader x Portgas D. Ace

CW: angst, language, erotic, violence, serial killer, stalking, poisoning, over-bearing controlling parents, attempted forced marriage, possible dub-con, Munchausen by proxy (aka Factitious Disorder), wildly cute and fluffy despite the warnings. 18+ only

Summary: You're Sabo's biological sister in this AU. After college you moved in with your dear brother and his two sworn brothers in order to avoid going back home. You and Sabo despise your family equally.

Chapter 17: Revel

Marco, Luffy, and even Ace, worked with you late into the evening. By the end of it you could at least fully transform into a very large, very white bird, and then successfully transform back into yourself. It looked a little like a mix of a pigeon, peacock, and hawk, though it was entirely white.

“You’ll start to notice more about it as time goes by, yoi.” Marco says. “Until we know exactly what your curse is, it’d be hard to try and preemptively sort it out. Once you get more comfortable changing I can try to help you do partial transformations.”

“Pájaro bonita. (pretty bird)” Ace says with a smile on his face.

“You shouldn’t talk to her in a language she doesn’t know.” Marco admonishes.

You feel the heat in your face, and then you feel a strange shiver ripple along the top of your head. The other three look at you with their eyes wide.

“Was that…?” Luffy starts.

“It was white too…” Marco mutters.

Ace beams. “She understands it.” He steps toward you and ruffles your hair a little. “You’re going to have to try and keep your emotions in check, pajarito. (small birdie)”

“What – what was that?” You question, patting your own head for a second.

“White fire.” Marco says. “Well, that’ll make it easier to sort out your curse.” His lazy smile turns into a serious expression. “Keep it in check though. I’ve never seen white fire before, which means it’s a rare kind of curse. Rare curses come with their own set of problems, and those are usually best avoided.”

“How do I find out more about it?” You question hesitantly. “I mean, how do I research what curse this is?”

“You don’t.” Marco asserts, pointing toward your heart. “Keep your senses turned in so you can learn control. Leave the research up to me and the guys at the station. We have ways of gathering information that won’t draw attention.”

You nod. “Alright, and… thank you for all your help.”

You thanked Marco for his help a couple more times as you walked him out of the house. He promised to let you know what he could find out, and then told Ace to take a few more days off.

“I don’t need that much time off.” Ace huffs.

Marco jabs him in the chest. “You made some promises down there, yoi. Keep. Them.”

“Ah – I … need time to plan.” Ace’s shoulders slump.

“You’re a bright boy, hot stuff, I’m sure you’ll pull something together.” Marco says teasingly. You can see the lines of Ace’s shoulders shiver and you realize he’s suppressing his fire as much as he can. Marco looks over to you with a smile. “Torment the hell out of him.” He says with a wink before leaving.

You offer Marco a smile and a wave, as you step up beside Ace. You brush your arm against his, nudging him a little.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect.” You say quietly. “It just needs to be you and me.” You reach out for his hand and stop short. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold his hand, but it felt like if you touched him right now things would go a little too fast.

“I’m, um, going to go to bed.” You say a little awkwardly. “It’s been a lo-long day, after all.”

Ace seems to have composed himself after Marco’s teasing and he smiles down at you, before leaning down and kissing the top of your head. “Rest well, (Y/N).”

He heads toward the backyard, and you nearly follow him. The exhaustion of the day, and the almost loopy feeling in your head from how tired you were, were the only things that stopped you. It didn’t matter that you wanted to spend more time with him, even if just a moment, but you were honestly more likely to fall asleep on him.

You look up to see Sabo grinning down at you from the top of the stairs.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go after him, lil’ spark.” Sabo teases as you ascend the stairs.

“I’m -,” you yawn. “Legitimately tired… Hey, did our parents ever learn who their parents are?”

Sabo shakes his head. “Not as far as I was ever aware, and they certainly didn’t learn it from me.” He tilts his head a little. “Sorted it out yourself, I see.”

“I mean, there were a lot of clues, and I generally have more time to ponder things than most.” You say with a sheepish smile. “Plus, once I realized the magnitude of their friends and contacts,” you shrug letting the thought hang before shifting gears. “Good night, brother dear.”

For the first time in memory, you slept. You didn’t toss in the night, woken by aches and pains or gasping breaths. You sank into your bed as though it had been replaced entirely with cotton and clouds, cradling your body. There were no odd spikes left, no coarse catches of cloth that seemed to claw at your skin while you tried desperately to rest.

Your joints didn’t ache and burn, your body’s exhaustion was from physical exertion, not from simply existing. You probably would’ve wept with relief, if you had stayed awake long enough to do so.

Despite having gone to bed far later than usual, you were awake a few moments before your normal morning alarm went off. At first you weren’t sure what to make of it. You felt awake. Wide awake. There was no grogginess at the edges of your mind. You didn’t feel the weight of your own body pushing you into the bed, too sore and too preemptively exhausted to want to move.

Sitting up without effort, you looked around your room and began to move and stretch your body. You could see better, there wasn’t a soft, but persistent ringing in your ears. Your back didn’t protest, your shoulders didn’t burn when you moved your arms.

A shiver ran through you as your emotions began to overflow, pouring down your face. Even your tears came more easily, and the realization nearly had you laughing despite it all.

Mindless of the time, or simply too giddy to care, you ran from your room and barged into Sabo’s.

“Brother! Brother, wake up!” You demanded, nearly running circles in his room, jumping up and down in your glee. “Sabo look!”

“Mm-hngh... Look?” He mutters sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Look, look!” You say it again and again, laughing as you bounce around in circles. “I can move!”

He sits up, smiling at you, a dazed and still somewhat sleepy look on his face. “You could always move?”

“Yes, but now it doesn’t hurt.” You say, hugging him tightly as he starts to fully wake up.

“Hurk!” Sabo makes a noise as you squeeze the air from him unintentionally. “Stronger!” He gasps before you ease up. “You’re certainly stronger.”

“Sorry, sorry!” You apologize, letting go. “I’m a bit over-excited, it seems.”

Sabo shakes his head. “By all means, lil’ spark, celebrate.” He stretches and gets out of bed. He’s in little more than boxers, but he’s already pulling on pants and a shirt. “You should revel in it without care today. Let me handle breakfast.”

“I can celebrate and cook,” you insist. You’ve calmed down from jumping around to just bouncing almost in place.

“Mmm… no.” He says with a chuckle. “You nearly realigned my spine with a hug, I’m not putting a knife in your hand right now. Enjoy the morning. Go into the basement and do all your stretches if you want.”

You nod, and dash out of his room, nearly barreling into a sleepy Ace. You stop short of crashing into him and give him a smile. He’s in a similar state to Sabo, and even though he’s giving you a smile in return you can tell he’s still mostly asleep.

“Buenos días, pajarito, dormiste bien?” He mumbles, yawning at the end.

“Amazingly!” You say happily, grabbing his hand and pulling him around with you as you dance around him. You get Ace turned around and can see him waking up finally. He sets his feet and helps you twirl in place.

“Hah, lookit you go.” He muses, dancing around lazily with you, helping you twirl out one way and then the other. He stops you as Sabo comes out of his room, and tries to fight back another yawn before failing to do so. “Ahhh-mmm… I can’t wait to actually dance with you.” He smirks, ruffling your hair idly.

“Is that going to be our first date?” You question with a grin.

Ace grins back but shakes his head. “Nah, I think I know what the first one’ll be. Which reminds me, Sabo, lemme help with breakfast, I need to run some stuff by you.”

“By me?” “By him?”

You and Sabo pipe up at the same time, both tilting your head. Ace laughs at the sight and waves his hands in front of himself.

“I’m not going to ask for permission or something archaic like that, I need some logistical help.” He says, his face going pink.

Sabo smiles. “Sure, but, uh… pants?” He prompts. You and Ace both look down and realize Ace is only in boxers.

It’s a little less that he’s just in boxers, and a little more that the boxers have a phrase on them.

“In case of fire, pull out hose-!” The words left your mouth, and comprehension hit you at the same time. You can feel the heat in your face as you turn away to hide your embarrassment – and stop yourself from continuing to stare at his crotch.

Ace’s face is in his hands, and he’s red down to his shoulders, too mortified to move. “Gift.” He says with a groan. “They were a gift from Thatch.”

“Pants.” Sabo asserts, and Ace manages to unroot himself and go into his room to get pants. “And you, stretches, downstairs.” He commands, and you scramble past him and head downstairs to practice transforming for a bit before breakfast.

Sabo pinches the bridge of his nose as he heads to the kitchen. “By the seas, I’m going to die from secondhand embarrassment at this rate.”

Down in the basement you focus on your curse. You can’t seem to do any kind of partial transformation, but Marco said those take time to learn anyway. Instead, you focused on getting comfortable with changing back and forth.

You had so much excess energy you were jumping up into the air and changing that way just to see if you could.

You could, but the landing was a little rough – there wasn’t enough room in the basement for you to spread your wings fully and keep yourself aloft. But the legs you had when you changed were really strong. They didn’t bend the way you expected, and that made it hard to get them under you quickly so you could land on your feet.

After you’d changed back and forth a few times, you seated yourself on the floor in your bird form and just tried to connect to everything. Marco had talked you through it a couple times the night before, but it was like trying to reach out and grab a single string when there were a thousand of them in front of you. The first step was knowing how many strings there were, and then you could start following them, seeing where they wove together, where they were knotted.

Marco said it was like taking a knitted blanket apart, and then putting it back together. You had to have that level of understanding before you could really start to comprehend all the details of what a curse provided.

It gave you a new appreciation for what Ace must have gone through, learning the ins and outs of something he was born with, trying not to lose the threads that made him, to the fire that was also a part of him.

Your concentration wasn’t working with you, and you shifted in your seated position. Flexing your wings you knocked over a nick-knack and glowered at it. If you were smaller as a bird you could at least practice flying in some sort of safety.

You probably weren’t ever going to even know if you could fly until it was a sort of desperate situation, because as it was, you weren’t even supposed to transform outside of the house. You were smart, and even Marco said you were adapting naturally, so you probably shouldn’t worry about it, but… you wanted to fly.

“Seriously, how cool would that be?” You muse. It was very easy to picture yourself stretched out in the big wide sky riding thermals like most other large birds do.

If you were less, five-foot-tall peacock-crane-whatever and more, dove sized then you’d be able to practice.

Suddenly white flames burst all around you, and you realized quickly that you were much smaller now. You moved your wings and looked around. Your big strong raptor talons were tiny little bird feet, and your long plumes were a couple long feathers, but you were almost plain in appearance by comparison, and barely six inches long.

You flapped your wings a few times and felt yourself lift a little off the floor. Hopping around, and infinitely grateful to be alone in the basement, you got some wind under your wings and flapped your way up onto the coffee table.

Bouncing from one clawed foot to the other in a little victory dance you ran to the edge of the table and jumped, pushing yourself up into the air and flying for a good two seconds before you crashed into the wall.

Flapping: easy.

Steering: not as easy.

Taking a moment to ensure you weren’t hurt, birds were either pretty resilient, or you were by virtue of the curse, but nothing was bent in the wrong direction and nothing hurt either. So you hopped up onto the coffee table again and ran off the other side, since there was more space from that direction.

Twelve seconds!

You were beginning to understand how tail feathers worked, and that your wings had different feathers with different effects on flight. You also managed to slow yourself down before you reached the wall and didn’t crash into it.

Up onto the coffee table, again, and again, and again!

You managed to get enough control that you could do a wide circle around the basement. You did your little hopping dance on the back of the couch, flicking your wings out in time with your feet.

You wanted to show Ace and Sabo, but you couldn’t go upstairs as a bird. Even as the almost mundane looking bird you were right now. Much as you didn’t want to, you needed to change back first.

Just change back, like Marco taught you.

Just. Change.

Don’t panic, just change back. It’s okay, you can do it. You did it before. Lots of times. Dozens and dozens of times. It’s super easy, you just remember what your hands look like and change back. You can hear Marco in your head, except the words are a garbled mess.

Stuck.

You’re stuck.

Panic.

No, no, don’t panic. Don’t let the animal instinct take you over. You’re you. No panicking.

But you still had a, ahem, small problem.

You were trying to think of ways you could possibly let someone know something was wrong, when you heard someone coming down the stairs. You hopped to the edge of the couch and flew over to the stairs, nearly crashing into Ace when you realized that people moved much faster than walls when you were flying.

“Whoa!” Ace leans back enough you can slow down and put your feet on his chest before he catches you gently. “What’re you -.” Ace looks around quickly and then back to you. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You squawk. Your voice comes out almost two octaves higher than usual and you put both wings over your beak.

Ace has nearly sucked both of his lips into the back of his throat trying not to laugh at you. He couldn’t cover his face, since you were currently sitting in his hands. Your feathers ruffle and you nearly double in size, an action which doesn’t help Ace who finally lets a laugh escape before he pulls himself together.

“Sorry. You’re just… that was…” He nearly chokes on the laugh he’s trying to keep in. “You’re stuck, huh?”

Your feathers almost ruffle harder for a second before you sigh and nod.

Ace’s face goes through a few emotions before he manages to smile at you. “I really don’t mind if you stay this way, but I’ll do my best to help. What were you before this?”

You tilt your head and see Ace’s lips twitch as he tries to maintain a straight face.

“Were… were you – oh by the seas – were you bigger? Or human?” He manages to prompt.

“Bigger.” You squeak.

Ace leans his head back, breathing in through his nose before letting a sigh out. “Okay, so think of being bigger. Bigger’s better right now, yeah? One step closer to what you want, right?”

Longer neck, longer feathers, longer legs, long-.

The rush of flames engulfs you again and you hear Ace grunt. You realize why, as a much larger bird version of you is barely being held in his hands and his face is lost in a mess of downy feathers. Panic rises up, but it’s more human panic than instinctual bird panic. It might be downy feathers, but he was still effectively buried in your chest.

You jerk back, shifting Ace, who loses his balance trying to hold onto you and falls just as you manage to turn back into a human. You and Ace both swear as he lands on the floor, and you land on top of him.

“You okay?” He groans the question.

“Y-yeah, are you-.” You pause at your question as you look down and see Ace smiling back up at you.

You’re sitting on his stomach. You likely knocked more air out of him than the tumble did, but from the look on his face, he’s not mad. You can feel your own flames flicker around yourself, and you nearly turn back into a bird out of embarrassment.

Ace puts his hands up to help you. “Steady yourself with my hands and get up before you explode.” He grins. “Or stay, if you want.”

You put one hand in his, but don’t get up right away. “You’re… okay?”

“Best seat in the house.” He beams at you.

You cover your face with one hand, but Ace keeps hold of the other. “Aaaaace.” You plead.

“I’m okay.” He says, finally answering you. “Your fire didn’t hurt me, your feathers only surprised me, and I would happily take a beating to end up like this, so.”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, but you reach out and take his other hand in yours. He’s always been warm, you imagine maybe a little warmer than most people considering he was fire, but that warmth is really comforting right now.

“Were you small so you could fly?” He questions after a moment.

You nod, and you feel his hands tighten their grip on yours a little.

“Did you?” There’s a sound in his voice that reminds you of when Luffy talks about meat, and you turn to see a very hopeful, very precious look on his face.

You smile and nod, squeezing his hands in return. “I did!”

“What was it like?”

“Completely chaotic!” You admit with a laugh. “I crashed into the wall the first time.”

You take a few minutes to talk Ace through everything that happened, pantomiming things with your hands while still holding onto his. You talked about the different feathers, and some assumptions you had, and how you had managed to do a few circles without crashing.

A look on his face causes you to pause and look away.

“Why’d you stop?” He questions, tilting his head a little and trying to catch your gaze. “I was listening.”

“Y-yes, you, uh… you cer-certainly were.”

“C’mon, mi palomita, don’t-.”

“Breakfast is ready!” Sabo yells down the stairs. “Stop snoggin’ down there and come eat.”

“We’re come-HURF!” Ace makes an odd sound as you change forms suddenly.

#just like fire #portgas d ace #x reader #portgas d ace x reader #reader insert

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vampyre-gutz · 2 years

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Here’s a list of Alphabetically sorted ‘Call Signs’ for you if you: can’t figure out what yours would be, you need one for an OC, or for whatever other purpose! :)

!! Some of these came off the internet and are real call signs! Some are from Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick which is probably why some of them may seem familiar. Good luck aviators. !!

A: Angel, Alphabet, Agony, Arrow, Assassin, Aggy, Ace, Animal, Astro.

B: Black Cat, Bronco, Bruise, Brick, Basher, Bulldog, Breaker, Blaze, Boomerang, B.O.B, Blade, Bullet, Bull, Bullseye, Bucket, Biggie, Birdie, Boots, Bones, Badger, Buzz, Big-sky, Baby Bat, Bubbly.

C: Cobra, Cypher, Casper, Charge, Cougar, Cyclone, Crow, Cyclops, Chipper, Coyote, Cargo, Charlie, Chaser, Cryo, Chuck, Creed, CooCoo, Cannonball, Circuit, Crash, Colt, Cruella, Creature, Chicken Little.

D: Dynamite, Dusty, Dash, Demo, Dice, Duck, Domino, Dover, Dozer, Diesel, Darling, Dasher, DoDo, Dipper, Digger., Deuce, Django, Dottie, Deception.

E: Elvis, Enigma, Egghead.

F: Flatline, Fireball, Fighter, Frost, Fancy, Feather, Flame, Frogman, Fifi, Firecracker, Fun-sized, Fruit Bat, Fungus.

G: Ghost, Goose, Giggles, Gucci, Ghostrider, Grizzly, Great White (shark), Gills, Gibbs, Gonzo, Ginger, Gator, Growler, Gretel, Graveyard, Ghoul, GG, G-Lord.

H: Hangman, Hammer, Hijax, Hijinx, Hollywood, Hurricane, Howler, Heater, Hawk, Honey, High-Tech, Hard Shell, Hydra, Horns, Heebee-Jeebee, Heartbreak, Hellcat, Hansel.

I: Iceman, Ivy.

J: Joker, Jinx, Jester, Jaws, Jacket, Judge, Jumper, Jaguar, Jigsaw, Judas.

K: Killer, Knight, Kanga, Krunch, Kindle.

L: Lucky, Legend, Little red, Lick, Lightbeam, Lambchop, Lover-boy, Lovebug, Lunch Money, Lucifer.

M: Maverick, Mouse, Mad Dog, Maniac, Machine, Mutt, Merlin, Mellow, Major, Mugsy, Mistletoe, Micro, Mamba, Mule, Mad, Memo, Magician, Monster, Moony, Midnight, Magic, Mastermind, Mare, Mustache, Moby, Mortician, Mortimer, Massacre, Mad Hatter.

N: Nova, Navigator, Nerd, Nugget.

O: Ox, Omen, Obi, Octave/Octavia, Oopsie Daisy.

P: Puddle, Porky, Poison, Payback, Phoenix, PopTop, Pyro, Pitch, Puggsy, Princess, Puke, Poltergeist, Phantom, Peacock, Puzzle, Peter Pan.

Q: Quiver, Queenie, Q-tip.

R: Razor, Ripper, Rattlesnake, Rooster, Rebound, Rush, Red, Rags, Robin, Rusty, Rebel, Radiator, Rottweiler, Rapid, Rambo, Red Flag, Rockstar.

S: SHOCK, Skipper, Showoff, Sparrow, Slayer, Smiley, Songbird, Shadow, Scooby, Slider, Sundown, Stinger, Sludge, Shredder, Storm, Silence, Stretch, Serpent, Scout, Shark, Stag, Slick, Sassy, Scooter, Soprano, Spring, Strike, Scorpion, Showtopper, Stallion, Sweet ‘n Sour, Scarlet Witch, Surge, Spinach.

T: Tiger, Taz (Tasmanian Devil), Thunder, Twinkle-Toes, Tank, Tweety, T-Bone, Tumble Weed, Trouble, Tombstone, Tug, Toon, Twitch, Turbo, Tart, Teacup.

U: Uber, Unicorn, Ultimate, Unseen.

V: Viper, Vapor, Vampire, VooDoo, Vanilla, Vine, Venom.

W: Wiki, Wolfman, Wizard, Warlock, Wildcard, Wednesday, Wildfire, Wonderland, White Rabbit.

X: Xeno, X-man, Xanadu.

Y: Youngin.

Z: Zeus, Zebra, Zig-Zag, Zimm.

#top gun #call signs #top gun maverick #call sign ideas #military #us navy #us navy fighter pilot #fighter pilot #pilot call signs

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imakemywings · 28 days

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Galadriel and her fat crush on Luthien: On Spotify | On Youtube

i. Jenny Studio Killers ii. Lay All Your Love on Me ABBA iii. Dancing in the Rain Trevor Morris iv. Halo Texas v. Learn Me Right Birdy and Mumford and Sons vi. Wild Child Enya vii. Closer Tegan and Sara viii. Take My Breath Away Berlin ix. Angel The Corrs x. Black is the Color Celtic Woman

The fanfic | Photo credit to Jessica Pamp

#the silmarillion #luthien #galadriel #galadriel x luthien #my mix #fanmix #music

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macravishedbymactavish · 10 months

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| Blog HQ | 18+ MDNI | All taglists open |

When @a-mad-dog-killer (founder of our Reboot Makarov Fanclub™️) told me that listening to the song Come Around was inspired by put the series into a new perspective; I knew I wanted to do a list like this.

T I T L E I N S P I R A T I O N

Always Attract // Logan Walker x F!Reader

Always Attract // You Me at Six

The Chronicles Of Life & Death // Various Ghosts x GN!Reader

The Chronicles of Life and Death // Good Charlotte

Riptide // Task Force 141 x M!Reader

Riptide // Beartooth

Pro Memoria // COD x GN!Reader

Pro Memoria // Ghost

Just Pretend // John "Soap" Mactavish x GN!Reader

Just Pretend // Bad Omens

Leave a Light On // Gary "Roach" Sanderson x GN!Reader

Leave a Light On // Tom Walker

Call me Babydoll // Task Force 141 x GN!Reader

Babydoll // Ari Abdul

C O N T E N T I N S P I R A T I O N

Take Me Back..// Alex Keller x F!Reader - Coming Soon

The Night We Met // Lord Huron

We're Lost & Found // Keegan Russ x F!Reader - Coming Soon

Wings // Birdy

T I T L E & C O N T E N T

I N S P I R A T I O N

Come Around // Logan Walker x F!Reader

Come Around // Papa Roach

San Diego // David "Hesh" Walker x Reader - Coming Soon

San Diego // blink 182

The Jester // Coming Soon (COD Ghosts One Shot)

The Jester // Badflower

12 Through 15 // COD Angst One Shots

12 Through 15 // Mayday Parade

Take Off Your Colours (NSFW) // Alex Keller x F!Reader

Take Off Your Colours // You Me at Six

Feel Good Drag (NSFW) // Alex Keller x F!Reader

Feel Good Drag // Anberlin

A Symptom of Being Human // John "Soap" Mactavish x GN!Reader

A Symptom of Being Human // Shinedown

MH 4.18.2011 // Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x GN!Reader (if you understand the line in the song that inspired the title, you get a gold star)

MH 4.18.2011 // blink 182

Deep End // COD x GN!Reader - Coming Soon (the message and typing sounds in the intro especially)

Deep End // I Prevail

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty ghosts #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #logan walker #captain john price #david hesh walker #kyle gaz garrick #keegan russ #alex keller #call of duty modern warfare 2019

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

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Ok so we all know that The Black Coldron is the closest thing to a horror movie we have from Disney (aside from the movie Something Wicked This Way Comes, assuming I'm remembering correctly that it was done by Disney), but what if Disney made all their movies more creepy like? I'm not talking about like if they just dropped the fairy tales and made slashers, I'm talking about the films they've done getting a scary spin similar to the Black Coldron. Like Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, etc. How do you think your favorite Disney films/villains would turn out if Disney let themselves go into the dark side?

And for the other side of the coin, imagine horror films getting a more... Well, family friendly feel/look. The plots are still the same, but they get Disneyfied. How do you think they'd turn out? I'm personally willing to bet all my money that Jason would be a classic Disney prince(ss); lives in the forest, one with nature, seen as one of the more kinder/sympathetic of the slashers, etc (and Chucky would definitely have some Dr. Facilier thing going on with all the voodoo)

Oh I love this concept!! First of all- Disney movies getting a darker twist.

Considering most fairytales and mythologies are dark in the first place- it wouldnt be very difficult. Unfortunately though I can't think of anything original 😅 Most everything has been done before with dark disney. Sorry I can't be more creative!! Haha 😅

As for Disney-Horror though!! I actually do have some things in the works for that- silly crossover things XD Like:

Hercules with Y/N as Meg, Jason as Hercules and Freddy as Hades. (Just fits so well?? 😅 )

The Princess and the Frog with Y/N as Tiana, Michael as Naveen and (Yes!!) Chucky as Facilier. (This is for sure the most crack, but I love Michael and Chucky together as a concept so 🤷‍♀️)

The Lion King, with Y/N as Nala, Thomas as Simba and Hoyt as Scar (a la the creepy Madness of King Scar scene where Scar Hoyt will try to convince Y/N, Simba's Thomas' betrothed, to help create a 'Host of little Scar's' with him)

Apart from silly x reader nonesence- I can truly see some of these Slashers as Disney movies though!! Haha XD Maybe I'm crazy- but- Jafar's and Jasmine's whole slave girl scene is farr creepier then anything Freddy did in the first ANOES. He was still invasive in that movie of course, thats the scary thing about Freddy, but with less then 10 mins of actual screentime he was not the full-on, backwards ✌️ sign in front of his mouth kind of sexual predator character that he builds up to. They could definetly keep the 'I'm your boyfriend now, Nancy' line considering the way Hades talks to Meg in Hercules and mayyybe the phone thing too (After all... Greasy did full on stick his hand down Jessica's cleavage in WFRR and that is a Disney movie folks XDD)- it's just the actual slashing that's posing a real issue!! XD😅XD😅 But Freddy's method of killing can be cushioned, I guess- make it more ambiguous and fantastical? With the dream powers and all. ANOES definetly has the magical element+larger then life, handsy villain+memorable setting+memorable heroine, which seems to be a tride and true Disney movie sum XD I dunno, take this or leave this- I'm just talking! XD 😅

Also Freddy has the greeeeen element, you know?? The limeeee green?~~

... plus if ANOES is animated you can have the original cast back *cough*

AND I LOVE YOUR DISNEY PRINCESS JASON IDEA!! He is absolutely majestic enough. Imagine that's how he knows where all his victims are, though?? Squirrels and little birdies tell him XDD

Imagine that movie though!!! A backwards Slasher with Disney animation and a KILLER ZOMBIE PRINCESS. He can talk to forest creatures so you can't hide, he's hard-working so you'll never get away, and his mother is dead. Because, obviously. They're all dead.

^^^^ this fucks me up (negatively) WAY WORSE THEN FREDDY'S SLIMEY TONGUE

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docgold13 · 2 years

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365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

October 13th - Sabertooth

Victor Creed was born in the middle 1800’s somewhere in the Northwest Territory of Canada. His Mutant powers manifested in childhood, bestowing him greatly enhanced senses and physical attributes, along with sharpened claws and teeth and a healing factor that enabled him to quickly recover from nearly any injury. Victor’s father was a cruel and superstitious man and became convinced his son had become possessed by some sort of lupine demon. As such, he beat young Victor, chaining him in an attic and forcibly removed the lad’s teeth and fingernails. These would grow back quickly and his father would repeat this brutal ordeal again and again.

The abuse drove Victor mad and he crewed off his own hand in order to escape and murdered his father. His limb regenerated and Victor wandered the Yukon ultimately finding work laying railroad tracks. Constantly finding trouble, Victor committed several murders as he made his way to Calgary.

Around the turn of the century, Victor learned that his older brother, Saul had been killed by a mysterious man named Logan (the individual who would go on to become the X-Man called Wolverine). Victor sought this Logan out and captured him, bringing him to a scientist in America named Nathaniel Essex.

Some time thereafter, Victor (who was now going be the name ‘Sabertooth’) traveled to Japan under the employ of the mysterious figure called Romulus. Logan had escaped Essex and was extorted by The Hand to bring Sabertooth down. The two battled once more and this time Logan was victorious. During this battle, the two came to realize the similarities of their regenerative powers, leading to speculation that the pair might be related. Victor escaped Logan and the two would later meet again fighting as mercenaries in the Sino-Japanese War of 1938.

Sabertooth would go on to fight for the Allied Forces during the Second World War and was later recruited by Colonel Nicholas Fury to act as a member of his Avengers team, hunting down nazi war criminals and preventing the rise of a fourth reich. Some years thereafter, Sabertooth was reunited alongside Logan onto a black operations military squadron called Team X. During his time with Team X, Victor had an affair with the Mutant shapeshifter, Mystique, and she became pregnant with their child.

Team X was disbanded and Sabertooth was sent to Viet Nam to conduct illegal covert operations for a secretive governmental organization. Some time thereafter, Sabertooth was approached by Charles Xavier who offered him a place among his Mutant team of heroes, The X-Men. Victor soundly refused Xavier’s offer, showing no interest whatsoever in fostering a harmonious relationship between humans and Mutants.

Later, Victor fell in with a beautiful young telepath named Birdy. The two became lovers and Birdy used her telepathic gifts to cool Victor’s rage and offer him the sense of peace that had always eluded him. Meanwhile, Victor’s son, Greydon Creed, had become involved in politics and the darker aspects of U.S, foreign policy. Although both his parents were Mutants, Greydon was born human and he came to despise Mutants, seeing the stoking of anti-Mutant sentiment as a hugely effective means to bolster his fledgling political career. So to torture his hated father, Greydon arranged for the murder of Birdy, causing Victor to return to his bloodthirsty ways.

Sabertooth would go on to partner with the super villain known as The Constrictor and had numerous run-ins with the heroes Iron-Fist, Power Man and others. Sometime thereafter, Sabertooth was recruited by Mister Sinister to act as the field leader of this team of killers, The Marauders. He led the Marauders into the Morlock tunnels below New York City and conducted a massacre that all but eradicated Morlock society.

Acting as Sinister’s agent, working for others, or just on his own, Sabertooth would go on to have numerous altercations with Wolverine, The X-Men and many other heroes. During the attack of the alien Phalanx, Sabertooth found himself allied with the X-Men and helped to save a number of the younger Mutants who would go on to form the team Generation X.

Sabertooth was then outfitted with an inhibitor collar and forced to act in a heroic fashion as a member of X-Factor. This only lasted a while before he was able to circumnavigate the collar and continue to his villainous ways.

Some time thereafter, the Axis event resulted in a number of villains becoming heroic. Even after the event ended and most of the villains returned to their original states, the effect on Sabertooth seemed to continue. This new heroic Sabertooth served as a member of The X-Men, becoming especially close with his teammate, Monet, and helping her work through the Mutant vampirism that had been afflicted onto her by her brother.

The effects of the Axis event eventually wore off and Sabertooth returned to his original nature. He was placed on a new team of covert Mutant agents modeled after the Weapon X program.

Following the foundation of the Mutant nation of Krakoa, Sabertooth was deemed too dangerous a threat to Xavier and the governing council’s goals. As such, he was imprisoned in a subterranean cage in the bowls of the living island. Whilst there, Sabertooth came to realize there was something secretive and possibly nefarious about Xavier’s true intentions for Krakoa. Sabertooth orchestrated an escape alongside the other poor Mutants imprisoned under the isle and remains at large.

Sabertooth has featured in a pair of the Fox Films X-Men movies, portrayed by actor Tyler Mane in The X-Men and by actor Liev Schreiber in X-Men Origins: Wolverine. The villain/antihero first appeared in the pages of Iron Fist Vol. 1 #14 (1977).

#365 Marvel Comics Heroes #Sabertooth #X-Men #Avengers #Liev Schreiber #cut-out #paper art

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unholyplumpprincess · 2 years

Note

Bats eyes, rolls over. Slashers, hm??

I have noticed you lack a bit of Ghostface (DBD) getting his ass handed to him like the brat he is. Perhaps a bit of Ghostface getting a bit too big for his britches when trying to hunt down a fairly larger, v dom Reader. Only to find out that he lacks the realization that he's not the hunter but the prey.

In turn, he finds himself bareass, receiving the spanking of his life and mayhaps, a little fingering only to be given multiple denials where he's finally left with a bit of hard-on (or one glorious orgasm you decide, doll) and the thought, well shit..can't kill that one in his daze.

Kinks: Spanking, Orgasm Denial, Pet names/Degradation, Daddy Kink, Semi-Public??(dunno what woods count as), a kiss of Knife play and for the fuck of it, Breeding (i know he got one)

Anything for u Be(loved)yonce!

Reblogs > Likes! Please Reblog if you hit Like to support future horny writing and make your local peaches n cream happy! :D

!!!Minors dni with this post as it contains adult content!!!

Ao3 link: Here

Fandom: Dead by daylight / Scream

Relationship: Ghostface x Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gender neutral and ambiguous BUT is mentioned to be Tall and Big, Danny is a huge masochist and sadist lmaooo, he's a gross boy and GOOD FOR HIM!!! GOOD FOR HIM!!!!, hints of a Daddy kink (only used as a Title), hints of a breeding kink at the end but only just like,,,one sentence

Words: 1.2k

____

Of course Danny would pick the biggest person in the room. Sure, sure, there were the other survivors that were fairly big and large. But they were meek in comparison to you. Lacking that bravado and bravery you did.

You taunt the other killers with ease- and he's not an exception either. You're tall, broad, easy to see from any hiding spots, and you use these to your advantage. You're a distraction. Running laps around the killers and laughing in their face while you do it with a double birdie flip off as you escape their clutches. You're a prize winning at the fair. And Danny?

Danny's trying to win that big prize. Aaaaaall the way on that big top shelf.

You're something to brag about if caught. Something to tell to the Entity with joy about such a prize offering. Danny is a solo man, doesn't really care for getting the 'big boss' all excited with its long spidery legs wiggling in delight. But, what he does care about is the rewards that come along with it.

You're doing your routine with him. Spotting him over the fog before he can even begin to stalk you. You make a pretty picture for his camera, something to add to the wall later and look at with a hand down his pants. You grin at him, big and bold, cupping hands around your mouth as you yell, "Come and get me, big boy. What? Daddy doesn't wanna play today?"

It shouldn't make him hard, but it does. The way you croon it so mockingly. And all he can think about is how sweet your blood will feel running down his hands as he personally takes your life. Fuck giving you to the big boss, you're his.

You run, and he predictably gives chase. Hot on your heels like some dog. Daydreaming all the while of sinking his blade into you, how you'd sound when you would scream, and how you would fight back and give him delicious bruises.

He chases you all throughout the dark. This realm had far too many buildings for his liking, leaving him rushing after you, aching to find you. You're always juuust out of his sight. But he finds you, finally. Cornering you in the killer shack.

You're just as unpredictable as he is. As he begins to saunter towards you, huffing out a, "Finally caught you, you little bitch." with a sneer. You lunge at him. Tackling him straight to the ground and pinning him under your sheer size.

You even have the gall to take his knife! His fucking KNIFE! Twisting his hand back to get it and slamming his hands under your knees. He yowls, trying to thrust his body up to get you up and off. But you don't even budge, not even a flinch.

"Kinda thirsty, don't you think, babe?" You hum out, twisting the knife in your grasp and admiring it in the moonlight before looking down at his mask. "Generators are gettin' done and you'd rather play tag with me? I'm flattered."

You tap the knife on the bottom of his mask and Danny's breath catches in his throat. Heat pools through his body at your half lidded look, looking him over like he was the piece of meat here.

"We both know you're not actually chasing me just cause ya wanna hook me." You say oh so matter of factly, making his face flush as you lean in down towards his mask. "Seen you behind trees watching me. Makin' pretty sounds as you stroke yourself off."

Danny's sound is strangled in his throat, a stutter catching on the tip of his tongue to deny you. But you grin, tapping the knife on the side of his mask. "What's to be done about that, huh? Think you need to get punished. Didn't even ask my permission. Kinda dirty, don't you think?"

He's going to fucking die, he's decided.

Danny finds himself tossed over your lap as you sit on the floor. His arms have been bound with his own ridiculously long sleeves, his robes pulled up and his bare ass getting hit by you. He's made to count, tell you anytime he's jacked off about you and why- where even.

He snarls and thrashes, but he does as told. Even as he howls in pain when your hand grasps one of his ass cheeks firmly, pulling it apart to bare his hole. Hard against your thigh where his hips have ended up rutting pathetically against you, leaving smears of pre-cum.

All he hears is this wet sound of you sucking your fingers before he feels you prodding at his hole. Pressing a finger inside and making him gasp out, shuddering hard with a cry when you finger fuck him roughly. Two fingers then three fingers twisting inside of him. He's so close, sooo close, and he begs for it so pretty. Rutting against you, swearing, pleading-

And you deny him for the first time. Then a second, then a third. All while he sobs and becomes undone by you, vaguely hearing the click of generators getting done in the distance. But all he can think about is how good your fingers feel in him and how painfully hard and blue his balls are fucking turning-

Six times. Six times you deny him. It's not hard either, considering how easy it would have been to make him cum. But after the sixth time, your hands leave him, and Danny practically snarls.

"You son of a bitch!" His words are slurred as he rolls onto his back, watching you laugh as you wipe your hands off on your pants. His dick gives a traitorous throb, heavy against his thigh. "You fucking cock sucker-"

"Could be. One day." You tease, nudging his thigh with your boot as Danny thrusts his chest into the air, trying to twist in his bonds. "Gotta leave you wanting, don't I, ghosty boy? Gotta give you some material for that spank bank of yours."

You pick up his discarded camera that had clattered to the ground earlier, turning it down towards him with a flash and a click. You take the picture, flipping it towards him as you crouch down to his level and show him his picture. Depraved, arms bound, cock hard and drooling onto the wooden floor. Pale skin of his legs covered in scars revealed and trembling like a leaf.

"And hey," You continue as you stand back up and look over the picture. "Something for me this time." You finish as you pocket the camera, tossing the knife with a clatter to the floor next to his head.

"I'm gonna fucking get you!" Danny howls, rolling onto his side with a shudder of sensitivity. Watching how you smile down at him, as if his words were just feeding you. "I'll get you and I'm gonna fuck you raw. Put a fucking baby in you. Make you my goddamn breeding bitch."

"Promises, promises. You have my consent- IF you can catch me. What'll you do if I catch you again, huh?" You croon, blowing a kiss to him as you leave out the door with the sound of the last pop of a generator.

Oh he was going to get you next round he had you. And he was going to make you pay.

#Ghostface #Ghostface x Reader #dead by deadlight #dick by daylight #nsft #lemon #drabble #princess writing

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